Economical Collapse
by ShadowAlchemist503
Summary: Over the past decade, America's economy has been falling, and now there is a possibility of another Great Depression, what with the whole nation owing 16.4 trillion dollars. How will this affect the personification of America? How poorly will it affect his health? To his luck (or possibly demise), England finds him before it's too late. (This is set in 2013)
1. Look Alive, Sunshine

**A/N Hello! Okay, at first I thought about writing something else, but this idea popped into mind, and I-I couldn't help myself. It was too good. Well, at least to me. Okay, so, I hope you enjoy :3**

**Okay, so for this story, I had this idea where when a nation has economic problems, they get sick! Recently, or at least on many many websites, it says that America is in debt of 16.4 trillion dollars, and could possibly go into another Great Depression and many other things as well.**

**Oh and also, I researched very much for this story, and made sure I wasn't feeding you lies. So please, don't say I didn't do my research, because I did ;3.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or any of the greatness it bestows.**

The world meeting. Where all the nations of the world gathered to discuss issues of well, the world. At least that's what they're supposed to do. But that never seems to happen, even with Germany yelling at everyone. Even when he uses that _special scary voice_. All it turns into is a bunch of nations arguing, yelling at eachother, sleeping, or in China's case, selling some sort of cheap yet sufficient food. The most notable things in almost every world conference were England's and France's arguing, America continuously repeating that '_he was the hero!'_ and Germany trying to calm everyone down.

But something out of place was happening. America was quiet this time around. Almost as quiet as Canada. Almost. Except for the constant sneezes and coughs he kept managing to hack out. But besides that, it was like someone put a zipper on America's mouth. A few other nations noticed, but didn't really bother to ask anything about it.

A few moments later though, America stood up, and rushed out of the room, slamming the large double doors behind him. That was enough to hush the room. "What's with America? Aru~" China asked glancing at the doors along with almost everyone else. Except Greece of course, who was still asleep. "Should someone go check up on him?" France asked, snapping out of his perverted speech. "Good idea. England, I think it would be best that you go, seeing as no one else knows him well enough." Germany said. Canada quietly sighed, wishing people would recognize that Canada is America's _brother_. But oh well, England would have to suffice.

"Wait, what?! Why do I have to go help that bloody idiot! He's America! He can bloody well fix himself on his own." England complained, his caterpillar-like eyebrows narrowing. "I guess I should just go, _non_?" France suggested, hoping to frazzle up England. "Absolutely not! Who knows what _you_ would do to him!" England hollered, walking flustered out of the room.

"Oh _Angleterre_..." France sighed, wishing that England would think him as not only as a pervert.

/

England's boots clanked down the hall as he walked towards the mens bathroom._ America couldn't have gotten very far_. His footsteps were quick, and his mouth twisted in a frown.

He slammed the bathroom door open, revealing a long row of stalls. A faint sound of someone - throwing up? - _yeah, definitely throwing up_, England decided, as he walked the bathrooms length. As he drew closer to the stall that held most likely America, the more louder America's wheezing became. England cautiously knocked on the stall he thought that probably held the obnoxious nation.

England's short patience snapped as he did not receive any sort of access of entry, or any sort of response. He knocked once more, hoping for an answer. Finally out of a fit of frustration, England pushed the door open. _It was unlocked this whole time?_

America was kneeling on the cold ground, his paled face stuck to the toilet seat with an unhealthy amount of his stomach contents (which seemed to be mostly digested hamburgers) in the toilet, all the while now deemed unconscious. _What the bloody hell happened here?_ England leaned forward, to take a better look at what might've made him sick. Amongst the floating digested burger in the toilet, was some strange black liquid. "What the..."

He shook the nation's shoulder, at first gently, then shook it roughly. There was no response. "America, stop being a bloody idiot and wake up!" He pushed the nation's limp body onto the the tiled wall, awkwardly positioning himself to feel America's forehead. _Oh damn, he has quite a high fever!_ England stood to his full height, wondering what to do. He couldn't exactly just lift America up and carry him. England was too weak, and America was just a bit too heavy. Plus where would he put him? He couldn't just put him outside and leave him in the baking sun... Even for England's standards that was cruel.

"America, America, wake up." England shook his shoulders. Suddenly, an idea popped into England's head. _A brilliant idea._ He put his hands on the left side of America's bomber jacket, and opened up one of the pockets. Inside, was about five hamburgers, all of them soggy and mushed together. "Hey America, if you don't wake up, I'm going to flush all your hamburgers down the toilet."

Just like that, America woke up. The light filtered into his eyes, and he blinked, surprised to find that England was there. "Dude...please don't." The younger country whined, snatching the hamburger back from England just to be shoved back in his pocket. "You know, I'm not surprised that you got so sick, what with always eating hamburgers from your pockets. It's unsanitary!" England lectured, helping America to stand up.

Once outside the bathroom, England and America walked quietly back to World Conference. "H-Hey England?" America was dragging himself across the wall as they walked, looking queasy.

"Yes?" England glanced over. "I-I think I'm gonna...I'm gonna-" America stopped, and held his hand over his mouth as he ran over to the trash can that was only a few feet away and hurled into it. "Oh good heavens that's disgusting!" England exclaimed, walking over to go help the younger nation. _What the bloody hell is making him so damn ill? He's always eating hamburgers, but this is the first time he ever actually got ill._

England slung America's arm over his shoulder, and aided him in walking back. When they stopped in front of the double doors, England asked, "America, what is wrong with you? You're never sick!" He could tell the younger nation was becoming nervous under his stare. "Nothin' dude! Stop worrying. I'll be fine in no time." America muttered. _Damn it, America is lying! I wish that idiot would just suck up his pride and tell me what's wrong._

_/_

After the conference that lasted about another hour, all the nations dispersed. Little did everyone know, this would be the last conference America would be going to for a while.

**A/N Hello :D I hope you all liked this chapter :3 Please do let me know if I have any grammatical errors or OOC, also if anything is confusing as well. The italics are when England is thinking, but I hope that was obvious. Anyways, I do plan on making this a long multichapter story, and to actually finish it! Anyhoo, thank you to those that read it, you all get cookies! (You only get these cookies for free, if you review ;3)**


	2. Surrender The Night

**Hello :D Oh my goodness, thank you all for the reviews/follows/favs, they made me motivated to write more of this story :3. (By the way, sorry if you already read this chapter, and got a notification I posted a new chapter, I actually just accidentally deleted this chapter instead of hit edit, so I had to reupload it. Sorry for any incoveniences .)**

**Okay, so shoutouts and cookies to all of those who reviewed my last chapter!**

**FluffyWhitePandas: Thank you for being my first reviewer :3 Your comment made me smile!**

**VampireGirl1700: Thank you so much for your awesome review c:**

**lion5889: Your comment made me feel especially special c;**

**America96: Thanks for the comment :D I'm glad it's interesting to you :3**

**MiyatheEarthninja: Oh my goodness, I really like your comment, and your username! Also, I thought it would be interesting write about this, so I'm glad you think it's interesting too!**

**BranchFoot: I had a really wide smile when reading this review :3 Your review seriously made me really excited to keep going. Thank you 3**

**Ricato: You certainly do deserve a cookie ;D Anyhoo, really? You think so? That's kind of funny we both had the same idea for this :3 I wonder what yours would've come out like?**

**Anyway, have any of you heard about the bombing in Boston? It's seems like domestic bombing (as in someone from within the country). I wonder why someone would do that :( Oh, and also, I want to say that I've been really wanting to write this chapter all of this week, but couldn't, because of school. Okay well I got music playing during this, so I'm all ready to write this.**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything of Hetalia, or else UsUk would be canon by now...**

World meetings seemed to be more spontaneous lately, never scheduled or planned until one hour before. It frustrated the nations greatly. This world meeting was announced while England was in a bath, so as you can tell who ever plans these meetings wants it to be as inconvenient as possible.

After slipping out of the desirable bath that England loved dearly, he got dressed, sulking the whole time. "Damn bloody wankers always catching me at a bad time..." He grumbled, drying his hair with a towel that was probably softer than his blankets. "How the bloody hell am I supposed to get there in an hour? That's nearly impossible!"

Within ten minutes, England was ready to go. He was still grumpy about not being able to finish his bath, but he couldn't exactly skip a meeting over a _bath_. He could just imagine the look on Germany's face if he actually did. England wasn't sure if he should laugh at the thought, or be fearful. Suddenly his phone vibrated from his trousers, shattering his thoughts. He looked down to see who it was._ Oh, it's France..._

"Oh hello_ Angleterre_! Which country is the world meeting in?" France asked, his voice barely audible through the bad connection. "In Japan. I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to get there in time to be honest. We only have an hour to get there!" England sighed, and walked outside his large house, locking the door with a small _click_ behind him. "Hmm, you could always just go on the plane especially built for nations." France notioned. "But that plane is being used by some other bloody nation!" England said. "Don't take your anger out on _me_! I'm too_ beautifu_l!" The phone went dead.

Right as England was about he to have a fit of anger, he got a_ magnificent_ idea. He could just use one of his black magic spells and teleport to Japan! _Hot damn_ he could just make out with himself in a mirror right now! But there wasn't enough time for that right now. He had some black magic to do!

He ran back into his houses, and walked into the basement where all of his 'satanic voodoo' things were put. After a couple minutes, the pentagram was drawn, and the candles were lain out. _Everything was going accordingly_. England began to chant a spell, and the pentagram glowed a strange red. He grinned, a little too eagerly and stepped forth.

/

The sun grew brightly overhead as England appeared in front of the World Conference building in Japan. "Oh hell yes! It worked!" England exclaimed, catching a few stares. He stepped forth in ultimate victory, and walked into the conference building, knowing he was going to be one of the first nations there,_ like he always was._

Up the stairs he went, through the elevator, all the way to the top floor. He slammed the large double doors to the room, and saw that only China and, uh - Cananada? Cadana? - whatever his name was, was sitting a few feet from England. "Hey England. You're here early today. How'd you get here so fast? I heard your plane was broken ~Aru." China asked. "Oh, just with the help of Satan!"

"...Excuse me?" China asked, eyeing England most strangely. "You heard me. I teleported here with a-" England was cut off as other countries started filing in, strangely with America not in the lead.

They all took their seats, with Germany at the head of the table. Some usual bickering resumed, and the usual snores of Greece and his new cat companion. Throughout the noise, a small ghostly voice was asking something. England looked around seeing who it was and noticed, er, the country north of America asking something. It appears he was asking Germany of something, and surprisingly Germany responded. A few seconds later, Germany asked, "Do any of you know where America is? He is rather late." This perked England's interest.

No one had seen him at all in the past two weeks since the last meeting. It was surprising since America always seemed to hang out with everyone pretty much _everywhere,_ and was at least seen by a country or two at least every week. But this, this was strange that no one had seen him at all.

Everyone shook their head. For a few minutes there was some discussion going on between Germany and France, till Germany spoke up, "We have decided that England will be searching for America. It is only fair, since no one else is as close."

_Again? I have to search for that bastard again?! What does he mean no else is as close as I am? What the bloody hell is Germany implying!_ England's face flushed, and his mouth twisted into a frown. "Why the hell do I have to do it? It's America's own fault that he's late!" England said, crossing his arms. "Oh come on _Angleterre_! Stop being such a _Tsundere_! You know you want to find him, _non_?" France asked, with a smirk as England got even more worked up. "Stop calling me a Tsundere you French bastard!" England screamed, grabbing at his hair in frustration, standing up from his chair.

"You're even _cuter_ when you're angry." France purred. England sat back down and closed his eyes and counted to ten. He had to calm himself down. He couldn't have France be smirking at him for the rest of the conference. "Fine, I'll do it. But you're all bloody idiots if you think I'll enjoy it." England said curtly. With that, he stood up, and went to open the large double doors. "Oh and by the way, when you find him, please call either France or I immediately so we can resume the meeting. Understood?" Germany asked._ So they want me to find America before the end if the conference?_ England sighed and nodded, and finally exited the room.

/

It's already been over an hour, and England could find no trace of the younger nation. He had asked at least thirty people, with a frown each time, _not believing he had to do this_. "Excuse me miss, have you seen a man eating a burger, with blue eyes and glasses and a bomber jacket?" England asked. The young woman who he asked shook her head, and shook his arm off. "Damn it..." He muttered, about ready to given up.

After about at least twenty more people, _six of them making fun of his eyebrows_, England was exhausted. He had been travelling all throughout California, where America seemed to be most often, (which by the way, he had to use dark magic once again to get there quickly enough), and had had no results. England closed his eyes, and tried to think of where the french-fry loving idiot could be._ Maybe he's with the president...? Would I even be allowed in the White House?_ England decided to risk it, and went forth.

/

After another exhausting hour of travelling through Washington D.C., which he so badly _doesn't_ want to be in, he found the White House in all of its glory. There it stood, just how he remembered it when he first saw it. England shoved away the memories, not wanting to be_ too_ bitter.

After introducing himself and that he was a fellow personification of a nation just like America, England was let through. He greeted the president Barack Obama with a fake smile, and shook hands. "So what can I do for you England?" Obama asked, escorting England through the glorious White House. _Glorious to all the Americans at least_. "Oh please call me Arthur." England uncomfortably grinned. "Okay, so what's going on Arthur?" Obama asked, kindness seemingly flowing through his pores. "Do you know where America is?"

There was a moment of silence before President Obama spoke, "Yes. Unfortunately, he is-he is in a hospital." England blinked quickly, about ready to lose his composure. "What's-What's wrong with him?" England asked, biting his lip. "Well the economy lately seems to be doing a lot more harm than good to him right now." Obama said quietly, pressing his lips together.

England's eyes darted around as his resolve started to break. "W-What do you mean 'the economy is doing a lot more harm than good'?" England asked. "Well if you didn't already know, this country, well it's in debt of 16.4 trillion dollars." The President's voice dropped to a whisper.

_16.4 trillion dollars. How the fuck is that possible! 16.4 TRILLION DOLLARS in debt?! That's-That's...this country needs to get it's bloody act together!_ England stared straight ahead, gritting his teeth with his caterpillar brows furrowed. His hands were clenched, and he was doing all he could not to yell at the President._ This bloody government must be brainless if they let themselves be that much in debt!_ England started to breathe heavily, the urge to not yell and slap the President was becoming increasingly harder. Each stepped they walked, the angrier England became.

"Do you know what hospital he is in?" England asked, his voice shaky. "Yes, here, it's only a couple blocks from here. I'll write it down for you." the President offered, swiping out a notebook and a pen, as he wrote down the address. A moment later, the paper was torn out, and handed to the furious and worried nation. "The visiting hours will end soon, so be quick." He looked down at the paper, and read the address, trying his best to memorize it. England said a quick 'thank you', and escorted himself out.

/

The sky was settling into dusk, and visiting hours were running out. As he walked quickly through the busy streets he remembered that he had to call either France or Germany to let them know where America was. Unfortunately, he did not have Germany on his contacts, and sighed, knowing he was going to have to call France. He flipped open his phone, and scrolled through his contacts till he got to _Francis Bonnefoy,_ and pressed call.

England switched to a surly expression as soon as he heard France's voice. "Hello _Angleterre_, have you found _Amerique_ yet?" France purred heavily into the phone, making England very uncomfortable. "Yes, I've found him. He's in a hospital in Washington D.C." The bushy-browed nation muttered, as he crossed the street, nearly getting hit by a car. "He's in a hospital? What for?" France asked. "Well...as far as I've heard, his economy is in a disturbing amount of debt, and it's made him very ill."

He could hear France gasp, and sighed heavily as well. "I hope nothing is too wrong with him..." England muttered, his expression darkening. "I hope so too _Angleterre._ I know you care for him deeply and I don't want to see you so upset." England's face flushed, and he was stammering for words, being accused _again_ for deeply caring about the hamburger loving idiot. He turned the corner, and the hospital was in sight. "I have to go, talk to you later." With that, England closed his phone once more.

He hurried across the street, wading through the cars, to get inside the building. Once he got inside he went to the counter to check himself in. "Hello, my name is Arthur Kirkland. I would like to visit Alfred Jones. I'm a-a close friend of his." England managed to stammer out to the lady behind the desk. The lady looked up, her thin cherry lips stretched into a taut line, as she lifted her pen from the paperwork. "Close friends don't cut it." The woman responded. England shifted his eyes to the ground, and stammered out, "I-I we...uh...Alfred and I are like family. I, uh, practically raised him." England looked back up, to see the lady scribbling something down. "Well don't just stand there. Sign in, and get moving. The room is 503A." The woman sighed as if she was talking to a kindergartener. "Y-yes, of course." Something about this woman was intimidating.

After scribbling _Arthur Kirkland_ onto the paper, England ascended up the stairs, to the glossy marble antiseptic elevator. A joyless song was playing in it, almost as joyless as England himself.

When the elevators doors opened, he entered the hall of the 500's. There were only about 10 rooms in the hallway. The door 503 loomed in front of the bushy-browed nation, as he slowly twisted the doorknob open. The wooden door creaked open, revealing a sight much worse than he had expected.

On the bed, with a dim light overhead, was America. His glasses were knocked onto the floor, and he was tangled up in blankets. A light sheen of sweat was covering his forehead, and there appeared to be dried tears along with dried vomit and who knows what sticking to his face. England decided to walk over to look at the bin next to America's bed, and quickly regretted the decision, as all it was was vomit. As he more closely examined the sick nation, England noticed the strained uncomfortable face that was being made, and the faint wheezing that was making it's way through America's clenched mouth. Carefully, England touched his forehead, and he quickly withdrew, worried as to why his forehead was this hot. It almost seems as if no nurse have checked on him, just leaving America to get worse.

England took a place on the somewhat comfortable bed next to America, and he quickly muttered, "Hey America, it's me England. I don't know if you can hear me in there but please wake up." A moment of desperate silence passed, and Englands shoulders slumped.

"E-England...Is that-Is that you?" England's head snapped around as he saw America slowly sitting up, putting in as much strength as he could. "Yes America, it's me." Despite how angry England wanted to feel, he couldn't help but soften up.

America wearily smiled, before he turned over, throwing up into the trash can with great force. He collapsed onto the bed, his smile quickly fading as he got tangled up in the never ending warmth of the hospital blankets once again. England looked down at his lap, absolutely hating how poor America's health was, and how awful his government is to him. How little his nation really cares for him. "You don't deserve this..." England murmured, his eyes shifting back to America.

His eyesight grew blurry, and he felt tears somehow wedge their way in. He quickly wiped them away, feeling embarrassed that he was tearing up over _America._ "Please wake up for me America... I can't bare to see you getting worse and worse...and I can't even do a damn thing about it."

**A/N Awww yessss, my longest chapter ever! Okay, so I hope this chapter was okay. Sorry if any characters seemed a bit OOC, I tried really hard to not make them like that :/. Also if any of the 'sort of' French I used for France was incorrect. Please notify me if you see any obvious or annoying mistakes I did not catch. Also, sorry it took so long for England to actually get to the hospital.**

**Oh and also, does anyone agree that England is a total Tsunderella? I mean seriously. Oh and in this chapter i tried to make England be a bit more...flustered...yknow? Sorry, England is just so cute when hes flustered! Okay, well uhm...**

**By the way, you can get free pie if you review/follow/favorite! I'm serious here, okay. Also I'm curious about this thing I heard from my friend where I hold the next chapter until I get at least 3 reviews. I don't know if that's a good idea, since I'd be basically blackmailing you guys, and some people do and dont mind this. What do you think? ~Ciao~**


	3. The Sharpest Lives

**A/N Hey you guys~ It's finally the weekend! Yes! Finally...hehe... Sorry, I've been waiting for today all week, since I've had testing all week... So, next week, there will definitely be a more likely chance of me updating on Wednesday or Thursday since I'll be able to go on the computers on those days! I'll try to get the chapters updated a bit faster, but don't hope for it too much, since I'm only allowed to go on the computers during the week. Also, there's this song called Ghosts by Gabrielle Aplin, and this other song called Cancer by My Chemical Romance that are just amazing songs. Ghosts sounds absolutely beautiful, and Cancer is one of the saddest songs I've ever heard in my life. Plus it also kind of goes with this story... Anyways my lovely readers, I shall stop talking. I love you all!**

**Shoutouts;**

**Branchfoot- Okay, thank you for saying that, I was really worried that they were :3**

**America96: You know what, you made a rather good point. Should I make other countries sick as well? That could make for an interesting plot... and thank you for pointing that out though about the white house :3. And don't worry, I don't feel offended by your comment..incase you were worrying about that..but you probably weren't.. anyways, thanks! :D**

**MiyatheEarthninja: Woo, disliking the government is fun, isn't it? ;D**

**SailorCheesy: Oh SailorCheesy, your comment made me really happy 33**

**LongNosedLiar: Yus, omG you are so nice 3**

**Ricato: Aw Ricato, you're making my heart swell like the Grinch! THank you so much for saying that :3 Well if you do ever write a story like this, I would most definitely read it :D**

**Thank you all for the reviews, follows, and favorites 3 They've brightened my mood so much.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own these *ahem*sexy*ahem* personified countries alright? I PROMISEEE**

The warmth crept into the hospital room like a snail, crawling over everything, and leaving it's essence behind. England's eyes fluttered open, surprised that he fell asleep in the hospital room with America. He felt fairly embarrassed, very glad France wasn't here to witness this. After shoving the thoughts away, England noticed something. America wasn't even in the room. Wondering where he could be, he got up to check around. _Maybe he's in the bathroom_. England checked in there, and it was empty.

"Maybe that wanker isn't sick anymore?" England muttered, somehow still managing to insult America in a situation like this. "Excuse me, have you seen a tall man with glasses and blonde hair come through her?" The bushy-browed nation asked a nurse who was passing by. "Oh, uh, yeah. I saw him passing through here while I was going to a different patients room. I asked him where he was going, and he said he felt better, and was going to check out. But to be honest, he looked even worse than when he checked in." The nurse finished.

In the lobby, and outside in the parking lot, he continued looking. He couldn't figure out at all why America would want to check out if according to the nurse he really did look worse. I mean, England knew America was prideful and all, probably too prideful for his own good, but something like this was going too far. If he was sick, he should be in a place where people can take care of him. Not go off and go somewhere where no one even knows where you're going. That's common sense.

_Maybe he's become so sick he's become delirious?_ England frowned at the thought, hoping it wasn't true. Although it could be a real possibility, considering how warm America's forehead felt. But yesterday, it seemed like America couldn't even get out of bed, and now he was walking out of the hospital? That seemed all too suspicious.

England pulled out his phone, and dialed the hamburger-loving nation's number. It rung once and went straight to voicemail. _You have reached the voicemail of Alfred Jones! If I don't call back, then that means I'm out being a hero!_ England closed his phone, thinking of who to call next. He flipped his open again, and called France. This time it rang about six times, and went straight to voicemail. He immediately closed his phone, not wanting to hear the annoying Frenchie's recording.

_Who else knows America well enough that might know where he could be?_ Once again, England opened his phone, to search through his contacts. He found Japan, and called him. About three rings in, Japan picked up. "Hello England-san? What seems to be the matter?" Japan asked. "Do you know where the wanker America is? He was in the hospital yesterday and now he's gone."

England grew agitated when all Japan answered with was 'I don't know.' "What do you mean you don't know?" England asked, pacing around in the half-full parking lot. "I'm sorry England-san, I really don't know. You could always ask his brother Canada-san though." Japan said. England quickly thanked him, and hung up._ Canada, huh? So that's the idiot's Northern brother?_

England wondered why he somehow did and didn't recognize the name Canada. He's heard America mention Canada before, and talk to this 'Canada', but never actually saw him. England flipped through his contacts again, and saw the ghostly name of 'Canada'. _Weird, I've never seen that name in my contacts before_. England pressed call.

It was safe to say, England was surprised to hear a quiet, friendly voice on the other side of the phone. "Hello, England. What's up?" Canada asked. "Do you happen to know where the bloody idiot America is?" England asked, the insult sort of slipping in out of habit. "I'd prefer if you'd not call him a 'bloody idiot'..." Canada muttered. "Oh, well, sorry. It's sort of a habit." England said. "I know, I've seen you do it a lot at World Meetings... "

England shifted uncomfortably, not once remembering Canada's presence at a World Meeting. "So do you know where he is?" England asked. "I'm sorry, I don't know... What happened to him?" Canada's question went unheard as England hung up, stuffing his phone into his pocket. _Where the bloody hell could that idiot be?_

England drove around in his car, thinking of where America could have dissapeared of to. No one else knew where he was, or wasn't picking up, so England had to unfortunately do this by himself.

After driving around stopping by about 30 different places, England was getting pissed. He already sort of was, but now, he was _really_ pissed. The only person to have seen someone that fit America's description just said that he came in to use the bathroom and left. He was back to square one, having no idea where the sick idiot was.

He would have to go to a motel tonight, and start the search again tomorrow. Just the day before England had_ finally_ found America and here he was searching for him again! He walked over to the receptionist placed directly in plain view in the small lobby, and decided he should probably ask her if she saw America.

"Excuse me, but have you happened to see a tall man with dirty blonde hair and glasses pass through here?" England asked, running a hand through his hair, knowing he was probably going to get another '_no_'. The receptionist looked up, and she flushed. _He's so attractive, and his accent is so..._ Her face got redder, and she sort of just stared at him before remembering his question. "Oh, actually yes, I have. He checked in here about an hour ago. He looked like he was about to pass out though. One of our employees actually had to help him to his room..." The receptionist continued to ramble, shocking England. "May I have the key to his room?" He asked.

She blinked out of her rambling and muttered, "I'm sorry sir, but he directly said to not let anyone in his room."_ Now why would he request that?_ England ran his hand through his hair again, irritated and unsure of what to excuse to say. "I'm practically his brother. Don't I get access?" He said, knowing it was probably a pretty lame excuse. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm can't give you the key. That would be violating the customers rights. I hope you can understand." The receptionist said, trying to sympathize.

"Oh, but he called me about a half an hour ago to meet him here! He told me he forgot his medicine." England smiled, proud of this excuse. "Okay, well if I find out he didn't actually do that, sir, you are going to be in trouble. I'll go retrieve the key for you." She muttered, bending over to reach for something below here desk. She reappeared with a silver key in her hand. "The room is 208, on the second floor, four doors down on the left. If you are going to stay the night, you're going to have to pay for it." The receptionist said, her tone firmer.

England said, and asked, "Fine, but I don't know if I have enough American currency. Would you mind if I payed you in pounds?" She blinked, and mumbled, "Oh, uhm, I'll just take whatever American currency you have sir. Could I please see your ID as well?" When he handed her his ID, she entered in the information, and handed it back. Once all that got settled, she handed him the key, blushing once more at the accidental contact of their hands. "Please enjoy your stay..." She muttered, staring down at her hands.

_That woman seemed strange. She kept mumbling and stuttering_. England thought as he approached room '208' with the key held tight in his hand. He pushed the key in and twisted it to the right. The door clicked open, and once he entered, he closed it behind him. "America? Are you in here?" He asked, searching around for the light switch. After about two minutes of feeling up the unsuspecting wall, he found the light switch, and flipped it on.

On the bed, tangled in the thin blankets was America, with a twisted expression, as if he was having a nightmare. England set the key on the drawer, and walked over to the bedside to wake the obnoxious nation up. "Hey, America, wake up. You need to wake up." England said, rather loudly as he shook America's shoulders, trying to bring him to consciousness. To no avail, England tried to think of some other way to wake him up. _Maybe pour cold water on his head? No that would just make him sicker...But his forehead is rather hot, so maybe it would cool him down_.

"Hey America, if you don't wake up, McDonalds will shut down. It will simply cease to exist. That's only if you don't woke up. Say goodbye to millions of burgers." As England continued to talk, America's eyes fluttered open. "Dude, you wouldn't..." He muttered, scratching at his head. "Oh, you're awake!" England exclaimed, not to his surprised the whole _'your hamburgers will disappear if you don't wake up_' trick worked again.

"McDonalds won't actually disappear will it?" America asked, pulling the blanket in closer to him. "No, you idiot. Of course it won't." England muttered, sighing softly. America stared up at England, and asked, "Why are you here? I can take care of myself..."

_America is an idiot._ England immediately turned around and said, "Obviously you cannot! There's vomit crusted on the edge of your lips, your eyes are red and puffy which makes it look like you've been crying, and it smells like death in here!" America was surprised he even noticed such small things like vomit crusted on his lips, and red and puffy eyes. "And the whole thing that you requested no one in here is pretty damn suspicious if you ask me!" England shouted, glaring at the younger nation for his idiocy.

"Sorry dude, I just didn't want people to be worrying for me is all. Don't need to freak out..." America mumbled through the blankets. "Oh...right." England quickly took his glasses off, and went to go grab a glass of water for him. Once he came back, America was asleep again, his snores soft, and his face returning to that twisted expression again.

A few minutes passed, and America began to mutter things. "Please..I'm sorry..." He sounded like he was about ready to cry. "I can't do anything about it..." America muttered, a bit louder this time. _What's he dreaming about?_

America uncharacteristically began to cry, and whispered, "I-Isolation?" _What the bloody hell is making him so damn sad?_ England tried to wake up America, but he kept mumbling, more and more, to no avail waking up. "C'mon and wake up you bloody idiot." England demanded in his most caring voice.

This went on for a few more minutes till America quieted down. England decided that that should be good enough, and he'll wake him if he starts thrashing around again. And hopefully, when he wakes up, he'll tell England what the hell is going on and what he was dreaming about.

**A/N Arghghgh sorry the ending of this chapter was so bad, I had absolutely NO idea what to write, so it sort of just came out too quick. I hoped you enjoyed it though, despite its apparent lack of quality in some parts. Please let me know what you think and how I should improve on this! Pleaseeee tell me so I can make the story better! I want to make it as great as possible for all of you, and I can't do it without the help of you! So which character do you want me to come and help England? If any at all? Or do you just want it to strictly be England who takes care of America, because I can do that too.**

**Oh my God, garlic bread tastes so good 333. Sorry, I'm hungry. Anyways, if you review/follow/favorite, you get a free plate of cookies! I swear it'll happen! I PROMISEEEE D:... If you don't I'll simply die...cease to exist...as if I was never born! I'll be as dramatic as Howl from Howl's Moving Castle when he turned to goo! Besides all that, I love you all, and I want to marry you all ;D. But I won't...because I don't have enough money for that... Also if you have any questions please tell me. Okay well odious my beauties ;3 I hope you're okay with me complimenting you. Okay...so ~ciao~**


	4. Desolation Row

**Omg haaaay there beautiful. Sorry I've taken so long to update, apparently my teachers really just wanted to given us at least 5 tests each week, with about 4 projects due this week as well... A**

**Oh and shoutouts to:**

**MiyatheEarthninja: I bet if you hugged America he would very much appreciate that :3 I just checked...and I'm made in China too :0 I'm just kidding...I'm not made in China... I'm made in 'MURICA**

**MichiGangster: Omg thank you so much :3 And...kudos to you for having an idea for where its going :D**

**StarkidWolf: Woopsies, didn't know I'd actually make anyone hungry by saying that x3 Oh my..thank you so much for saying that!**

**Iggy's Duckie: Omg wowie wow I love your username. And thanks for the feedback, I'll think about adding him at some point..I think it could be interesting! Don't worry... I'm not the biggest fan of IggyPan or AmeriPan. .**

**America96: Isn't it kind of ridiculous how some people get so upset over something like a correction? I mean it's not like you said something mean, you just made a historical correction, I'll never get mad at that :3**

**SailorCheesy: I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not, but I'm assuming you aren't, so thanks for reviewing that ;D**

**Onarwhal: Ohohoho of course I would! I mean who cares if we don't know each other at all...let's get married! xDD**

** wOWIE WOW WOW i love your username :33 And a bunch of people in the reviews are saying Canada...so there's a possiblity I might add him to help for a bit or somethin'...(for DrWhoisCanda. My phone won't put your name like everyone else's)**

**Ricato: Ricato...you are just too nice :D! And thank you so much for your suggestion :3 I was having such a hard time figuring out who to add, but I think now Canada will be added at some point...**

**Guest: Maybe I'll add him too :3 Idk, that could be fairly interesting if helped England out or something...ERghhh so many ideas!**

**Misguided S (or Misguided Shinigami, whichever you prefer): Omg, wow that is the nicest compliment someone has ever given me :3 I mean more awesome than Prussia? You are way too kind! And YAY, YOU GET THE SONG REFERENCES. I AM REALLY HAPPY NOW BECAUSE OF IT**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, okay?**

/

Throughout the night, America woke, and slept, amidst the realm of sleep and the realm of reality. Both were just awful. In reality, he felt like he was going to die, and in the realm of the dreams, memories of the Great Depression came flooding in. Accompanied by his fever, his memories turned into to vivid nightmares.

_It was a simple day in 1929. America had woken up with an awful headache, and he felt unusually tired. He sat up to go eat some breakfast, hoping that would help. He went down the wooden staircase to find a plate of eggs already made for him, and a usual morning newspaper next to it. America wouldn't admit it to many, but he loved reading the newspaper._

_He took the first bite of his bagel, and read the headline. 'America's Stock Market Crashed' was what it read. Suddenly, he didn't feel so hungry anymore. It was a simple day. It was just a regular Tuesday on another October thirtieth. But this time, the stock market had actually crashed. America knew there had been some unrest in many cities, and he knew that the economy was bad, but he didn't know it'd be this bad._

_A few minutes later, when America wasn't even dressed and hadn't even finished his breakfast, his boss arrived, with a grim face. "Hey boss, what's up?" He asked, swallowing down the last bite of his eggs. "I'm afraid the news I'm going to tell you won't be good news, so I hope you're prepared." His boss said quietly. America set his fork down, now all of his attention directly to his boss. "As of today, the stock markets have crashed." He glanced over to the morning paper next to said nation, and thought America had probably already found out._

_"I know a way we could fix that though, Mr. America," His boss started, bustling over to take a seat across the said nation, "We could go into isolation, breaking off all foreign trade. I've already discussed with a few others and they seem to think it's a great idea." America nodded slowly, taking a nervous sip from his glass. "I hope you don't mind going into a World Meeting today to tell the other nations about it." His boss said, staring intently at America waiting for his answer._

_"O-Okay, I'll go." The now apprehensive nation said, taking another sip from his cup. "Perfect!" His boss said, whisking away America's mostly finished plate just to be handed to another servant._

_America walked the stairs onto the plane, nervously fumbling around with the hamburger in his pocket. He wanted to eat it, but all the thoughts that filtered through his head of how the World Conference was probably going to go made him not want to. He knew it was going to be a rather long flight, since this current World Meeting was taking place in Austria. A moment later, he took a seat, trying to get as comfortable as possible, but the space was too tight._

_Once they landed, America awoke from his nap he just started twenty minutes ago and stood up. All of them boarded off the plane, into the light of day, or rather the cloud covered light of day. He continued walking on, seeing the large World Conference building almost every country had except for his brother, Canada, whom was forgotten by nearly everyone except America._

_On the last flight of stairs, America walked, his shoes echoing in the lonesome tiled hallway. In front of him stood the large double doors that held all the probably angry nations on the other side. He apprehensively twisted the doorknob open, revealing the two long rows of grumbling nations, all staring at him expectantly. He gulped, and walked up to the wooden podium in the front._

_"I have come here today to tell you all that my country is going into isolation." There were a dozen groans heard throughout the nations, and one of them said, "He's going into isolation? But he's so much in debt to me! Why does he have to be so selfish?" America didn't look up to see who it was, knowing that it was probably China. "And we do not know how long we will be going into isolation."_

_After his speech, America was on the verge of tears, one of his mistakes after another getting pointed out, making him wish he never accepted the responsibility of coming. He stuttered out, "G-Goodbye, please don't worry. Th-this will all be fixed soon..." He walked off the podium, feeling all the glares and anger being sent to him. "No one will miss you, you bloody fatass." One of the nations said, causing the first tears to spill over._

_America ran off into the bathroom at the end of the hall, slamming a stall door open. His vision was blurry, and he was pretty sure he was still crying. He sat down on the toilet, and brought his hands to his face, wishing he had never woken up that morning. A few moments later, he heard footsteps in the stall, and quieted himself. "America, are you in here?" The all too familiar English accent asked, the sounds of the stalls being opened was heard._

_Finally the last stall was opened, and England saw America, in tear stained glasses, staring up at him. "I'm sorry America... Please wake up." America looked up at England in confusion, not knowing what he meant. "C'mon America...please wake up."_

America awoke out of his dream with a sudden jolt, taking in his surroundings. He was slick with sweat, and his face was red and covered in tears. Next to him was England, strangely enough England looked about ready to shed some tears himself. The idea that England was probably about to cry was forgotten as a bolt of nausea shot through America, making him lie back down immediately.

England immediately offered a cup of water, and America of course immediately declined. "How are you going to get better if you won't even drink the damn water? C'mon, you idiot, you can't survive through this without water!" England said, tightening his grip on the plastic cup, his impatience rising. "But I don't like water..." America whined, tearing the blankets off of him. "Just drink it you bloody idiot! I'm getting impatient!"

America leaned forward slightly, and snatched the cup out of England's hand and chugged the cold liquid down. Once the last gulp was swallowed, the cup was set aside, later forgotten. "What were you dreaming about?" England asked.

"Oh, uh nothing Iggy...Just some weird dream I had!" America said, kind of surprised at how lame his excuse was. "Are you sure? You were crying. I don't think that's just some weird dream." England said. "It's...It was nothing, don't worry 'bout it..."

"Hey, could you turn the TV on? I'm bored..." America muttered, turning to lie down on his back, trying to find a position that he'd be comfortable. "Alright, what do you want to watch?" The older nation asked, almost sounding like he was talking to a child. "Uh, I guess something on Cartoon Network, or maybe an action movie or something..." America mumbled, reaching out for his glasses.

"Here you go love," England muttered, handing America his glasses, not realising what he just said. "Iggy? Did you just call me 'love'?" America asked, sliding his glasses on with little difficulty. England blinked a few times, a small blush creeping over his cheeks before yelling, "No I did not you bloody wanker! Are you really that delirious to think I would call you such a thing?!"

England continued to ramble on before he noticed America staring at him with a small smile and immediately stopped talking with his small blush spreading further across his cheeks, realising he probably wasn't helping himself out here. "Will you stop staring! It makes you look like an idiot!" England quickly spouted, crossing his arms and frowning. America started to laugh before his laughs turned into coughs. His coughing grew violent, and tears were springing to his eyes at his apparent lack of breath. He sat up, hoping that would help, but it only made it worse.

Immediately snapping out of his embarrassment, or at least trying to, England sat down on the bed, and awkwardly began to rub America's back, hoping it would help. Eventually the coughing died down, and America flopped back onto his back, almost crushing England's hand along with it. England grumbled something, before he heard the vibration of his phone from the nightstand. He hoped it wouldn't be frog face again...

He opened his phone and pressed 'answer', "Hello, it's Germany. Have you found America?" Germany asked, sounding quiet through the bad signal of the low connection of the motel. "Yes, I have. He is in a motel, and he is very ill." England said quietly, trying to not get America's attention. "Oh, why is he sick?" The German nation asked. "Well his economy is horrible, and so it is affecting his health greatly." The bushy-browed nation muttered. "Alright then, take care of him." Germany said, the phone call ending.

When England turned back around, America was clutching onto his stomach, breathing quickly and shallowly. "America? What's wrong?" England asked, approaching the bed. "My-My stomach really hurts..." America groaned, flopping onto his side, curling into a ball. "It hurts so much..." He mumbled, now both of his hands on his stomach. "How can I help?" England asked, trying not to lose his composure. "Bring me...Bring me the trash bin..."

England brought it over to America without question, and the latter nation leaned over the bed, and wretched into the bin. Just like the first time England encountered America passed out in front of the toilet, there was some strange black liquid oozing its way out. He didn't look for too long though, since England had the tendency to have a weak stomach.

Once America was done, he shifted back onto his back, sinking into the bed, groaning. His hands were still clenched to his stomach, and he looked even more in pain. Small tears made its way into England's eyes, his anger towards America's government, and the fact nothing he was doing for America was helping, possibly only making it worse. And seeing how much pain America was in, the same nation whom he had raised, the same nation that was really worth his time, the same nation he had at one time devoted his entire life to, the same damn nation whom was the only one England really cared that much for, was getting worse and worse right before his very eyes.

Before England could stop himself, or go to the bathroom where he'd be hidden, the first tear fell, and ran slowly down his face, with many more to come. While America slipped in and out of consciousness, England sat there, on the small chair, crying. It was so uncharacteristic to cry, but it was also uncharacteristic of America to be bedridden in so much pain.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rung. England thought it was probably room service, even though room service wasn't ordered._ Maybe they were feeling generous?_ England stood up, not bothering to hide his tears, considering it was probably just staff, and it would be a '_violation of privacy_' to ask why England was crying. To his surprise, it wasn't staff. It was the _frog_; France.

France looked down, and gasped. "Oh _Angleterre_! You have been crying!" France exclaimed, as England quickly tried to wipe away any tears that remained. "What are you talking about you bloody _frog_! I have allergies, can't you tell?" England's mood immediately switched from somber, to annoyed. "_Angleterre_, your excuses are horrible!" France exclaimed once more.

"Why are you here anyways?" England asked, furrowing his brows, his mouth twisting into its usual frown. "I wanted to check on _Ameriques_ condition of course! I won't stay too long, alright?" France quickly added, noticing England's growing agitation. "Alright, but hurry up."

France pranced over to the bed, and once again gasped. He glanced over to the bin, and muttered, "Oh my God..." seeing how much vomit was in the bin. In his sleep, America was still clutching his stomach, and he was still breathing shallowly. "He looks like he's dying!" France exclaimed, turning around to England. "You look like you're about to cry again!'

England pressed his lips together, knowing if he retaliated, his voice would come out shaky and uneven, instantly giving away that he was on the verge of tears. "Oh _Angleterre_, it'll be okay. You just have to wait this out with him and take care of him. Unfortunately there's not much else you can do. But listen- look at me," France paused, waiting for England to look up, "He needs as much help and support as he can get in this state, so just be there for him." The French nation said, hoping England would believe his words.

England nodded, even despite France's words, still feeling rather helpless. With that, France escorted himself out, leaving England there with the dreadfully sick America. "Please get better soon America, it hurts so much to see you like this..." England muttered, taking his previous seat. He brought his hands to his face, letting the tears fall once more with the sound of the TV flickering in the background. He didn't know how much longer he could take this.

**A/N Erghgghghgh I feel so mean for doing that to both America and England. I even feel guilty... So was England out of character with the whole crying scene? Sorry, I always worry about that . Anyways I hope you can forgive me for putting America through so much pain! Especially having that dream sequence... it was a rather depressing dream to write to be honest. Ugh, one of you go teleport to the world of Hetalia and give America and England a hug, because they definitely need it! Especially England right now! Okay, so was France okay in this? I made sure for him to not really...help, or stick around long, just like many of you requested :3. Anyways, please review, if you do, I'll give you chocolates! Or pizza! Whichever you prefer! Thankyou all so much for your support in all this! ~Ciao~**


	5. Silence

**A/N Hello! I am in my bed writing this, and listening to the majestic Lily Allen. I've been reading two absolutely amazing and descriptive UsUk fanfics (Behind the Mask, and An American Dream in an English Village) and oh my Goody Good, those are so amazing! If you haven't read those, you should! Anyways, how amazing those two fanfics are have most certainly inspired me to work harder on my stories and put more thought into it! No more laziness for me...**

**Oh and this week at my school there was this thing called International Day, and there were different foods from different countries, and people wore different clothing from different cultures, and some actual people from the countries were even there! Me of course being the Hetalian that I am, of course had to relate all of this to Hetalia! But what else would be expected? Okay, well enjoy!**

**Shoutouts to:**

**SailorCheesy: Aw, thank you SailorCheesy!**

**Cool HetaliaGirl: Hehe sorry about that... I'll try and make them a bit shorter.**

**Aralechan: Oh my gosh, really? I'm so glad it actually interests you! Thank you so much :D**

**Maddielove95: I know right? It's only a matter of time before its economy utterly collapses once more...**

**Ricato: Oh, thanks Ricato! You know, you're one of the few people who seems to comment often on my chapters, and for that, I very much thank you. :) It makes me really happy (and maybe even a bit full of myself x3).**

**Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me.**

Another sunny day in the midst of January. Just wonderful. The weather was so much different in England! It was always raining over there, especially right now, while in this place in America, it somehow still manages to be rather sunny. England doesn't even know if its really even been cloudy during the whole time of his stay. Not even when he travelled to California. It was _especially_ warm their (don't even talk about the southern California).

After a moment of thought, England stretched over the bed, and closed the blinds, letting the sad attempt at darkness instead of the warm morning blaze settle in. Well, it was better than nothing at least. Plus, with the blinds now closed, the sun wouldn't be directly shining itself on America! Heavens knew how exactly the sun was affecting the sick nation.

The elder nation got up, and switched off the splotchy TV, some old cartoon being played. _How could America even fall asleep to something as childish as cartoons?_ England lightly chuckled, knowing that America never really did mentally grow up. A small buzzing ensued, distracting England from his thoughts. He looked around to decipher where it was coming from, then saw his small silver phone under the bed. He crouched down to reach it, and when he picked it up, he saw that it was a call from Canada. England flipped it open, and pressed answer.

"Hello Canada, what seems to be the matter?" England asked. "I heard from France where you were, and America's condition..." Canada paused, then offered, "Would you like any help? I've had to help him when he was sick during his country's Great Depression, so I know on how to help in some ways..." England considered this for a moment, then finally complied. "Alright, I suppose your help wouldn't hurt at all. See you later then."

The call went dead, and England decided to set the phone aside for now. _What to do, what to do..._ The island nation looked around, hoping to see maybe a book, or something to write or draw on. After a few minutes of searching around, it seemed that in the motel the only source of entertainment was the TV. He sighed, and settled down on the end of the bed, crossing his legs, trying to get comfortable. When he did get comfortable, his stomach signaled otherwise, meaning that he should get some food into his body.

England got back up, a bit irritable, and decided to head downstairs to see if there was any food in the lobby. That might not be the case since this _is_ just a cheap motel. If there wasn't food...then he would just have to suffice with some fast food that's in the area... The elder nation turned around to check if America was asleep (and alive), and was surprised to find America's eyes fluttering open and him looking around. "What time is it?" America groaned, flipping onto his side. "Around 10:30."

"In the morning...?"

"What do you think?"

America decidedly sat up, muttering, "Why 10:30? That's way too early..." He glanced around for his glasses, and after a minute, he found the said object neatly tucked away on the side of the table lamp. He clumsily shoved them on, moving the hair that incidentally got tucked under his glasses. Noticing the sick nations' hair, England decided he most definitely needed to brush it. As he examined it, he noticed how America's hair was beginning to tangle and tie together, mostly near the back of his head.

After a minute of deciding whether or not he should grab out his comb and just start untangling America's hair before it got too messy and matted (heavens knows that seemed to be a constant problem when America was a child), America got up to head to the bathroom, weakly saying, "I-I'm gonna try and take a bath or something, 'kay?"

Before England could properly protest, the bathroom door was already slammed shut, and the bath water was already running. Even when America was sick, he _still_ moved fast. Not a moment later, a loud 'bang' of something colliding with the floor inside the bathroom rang out.

England ran over, and cautiously twisted the doorknob to the bathroom open. What England had not expected was America would already nearly naked, with only a towel covering his 'vital regions'. "Oh dear lord," England muttered, an uncomfortable warmth sprinkling his face. He then looked around, seeing what might've caused the loud crash. But then seeing America strangely flopped on the tile, England realized America was the loud crash. "C-Could you help me up?" The said nation asked, struggling against the toilet and the tiles.

England grabbed his sweaty palm, and heaved the sick nation back onto his feet. Only did he realize then the cost of heaving America up so hastily. The cost was America's towel, now on the ground. England shifted his eyes to some _other_ part of the bathroom that wasn't America's inherent stark naked body. "Thanks, you can go now..." America muttered, quickly plunging into the bathtub to avoid further embarrassment.

England left the room in a huff, and shut the bathroom door behind him. As soon as the small 'click' of the door shutting in place was heard, the front door rung. Oh, that must be Canada! England thought, or at least hoped. Last night he had merely thought it was going to room service ringing the doorbell, but it was actually the frog France... It was safe to say, England was having a hard time trusting the deceitful doorbell right now.

To his luck, it was Canada, and this time England could really tell it was the moose-loving (well England could only assume that) nation with the whole maple-leaf sweater thing he was wearing. "Hey there." Canada said, quiet as usual. "Hello Canada, it is nice to see you again."

Canada invited himself in, and looked around, quietly observing everything in the motel. "Is America in the bath right now?" England blushed faintly at the question, and said, "Yes, he is." Canada continued to look around, and then gasped when he saw how disturbed and askewn the bed was. "Oh maple! This bed is a disaster!" The North American nation exclaimed, looking around to see England, who appeared to be sighing.

After straightening the bed out only a few minutes later, England and Canada sat down. "Was it this bad during his Great Depression?" England asked, glancing over at Canada. "Oh, it was worse! America couldn't even get out of bed! Not only was he sick physically, but he also seemed to be doing poorly mentally. Not to mention the fact that his own economy was failing made him form an uncharacteristic depression..." The younger nation said, growing a bit weary from the memories. "I think at one point, his fever grew so high he became delirious. But fortunately that only lasted for about a day."

As Canada continued on with each symptom and each dreary word describing how sick America once was and how he could possibly feel that same way again, an unsettling amount of worry made its way into Englands gut. "Once his Great Depression was over though, America recovered really quickly. Then he told me he didn't even remember a lot of what happened while he was sick!" Canada finished with a nervous laugh.

England forced a laugh as well, feeling the wall of social awkwardness rise once more. "So, uhm, during those times...did America ever- did he ever throw up sort of a black liquid or ooze?"

Canada blinked, then answered, "I think he might've...but I'm not really sure. Wait, is he throwing up black ooze?" The maple nation asked, beginning to be overrun by worry. England glanced down at his feet, and muttered, "Yes, and I'm afraid there's been more of it since last night."

For a few minutes the two just sat there, in the uncomfortable silence. "Should we- should we ask America?" Canada asked, even quieter than he usually is. "I suppose so... But wait, shouldn't we wait? I mean America isn't exactly wearing any clothes right now..." England muttered. "Good point."

After a inhumanly slow half an hour, the sound of the bath water draining and America getting out of the bathroom was heard. "Finally..." England groaned, pulling away from the insanely boring travelling guide book he found jammed in between one of the drawers. Canada sighed appreciatively as well, pulling away from the small notepad he was doodling in. "So do you want to ask?" England asked, stuffing the book back where he found it. "I- I suppose..."

Canada stood up as America exited the bathroom in a Tshirt and boxers, with a dazed look across his face. "Canada? What are you doing here? Did I forget something...or something...?" America asked, plopping back down onto his bed. "Oh, I just came over to offer any help," Canada paused, seeing the confusion America was so blatantly displaying, "Oh, and I have a question for you."

America nodded, signaling for Canada to ask away. "What's the black stuff that's apart of what you-of what you throw up?" America sighed and muttered, "It's the effect oil spills have on me..." His voice was weak, and he looked like he was about to fall into sleep again, and before Canada could actually slip in a question again, America actually did fall back asleep.

"Hey America, wake up. We're not done asking you questions." England pestered, poking at the sleeping nation. "America, if you don't answer this one last question Canada and I have, all your burgers will turn into salads." A moment later, and no response. "America, c'mon wake up. You don't want that to happen to your burgers do you?" England asked, growing frantic. "C'mon America, wake the hell up!"

**A/N Sorry if the ending was poor, I only have about three more minutes till I have to go to bed, so I kind of had to rush it... Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed this! Also, I feel so evil right now for having written this! I mean, him not waking up? How mean can I get? But just remember this my dear readers, "Thing have to get worse before they can get better". Just remember that, alright? Oh and now you know what the elusive black liquid was! I'm sorry, I just really wanted to include that... Okay, so you're all really cool. Stay tuned for the next chapter! ~Ciao~**


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